


The Painter

by Remember_Ember



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Character Death, Daniel Howell - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, Layers of Fear - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Character Death, Painting, danisnotonfire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Ember/pseuds/Remember_Ember
Summary: His eyes fluttered open once more and before him stood his painting. A man, standing beneath the golden trees of autumn. He was perfectly shaded, with harsh lines of fiery light from the sun. The painting had soft looking dark hair and pale skin, soft pink lips and blue eyes.And yet, it was wrong.The eyes, always the eyes...He covered the eyes with a harsh red line and then placed the word 'Wrong' in angry, dripping letters beneath the face.He'd been so close this time......He's been painting for years and years. Trying, again and again, to make things perfect. But he can never capture the one beauty he wishes.He can never bring Him back.





	The Painter

He sighed as he brought his brush up to his canvas, the red spreading out like a watercolor beneath his brush. He smiled a little as his hands flowed gracefully over the canvas, the shape of fall leaves beginning to take form over the already almost finished background.

The painting was a man or would be a man when he finished. For now, he was painting the autumn scene that would be behind him. And at the moment he was using what had once been his signature. His red.

People always wondered what color he used, how he got the red to be so... different. It never quite looked like the rest of the paints he used. And those who noticed were very right. His red was made very special.

He sighed again as he watched his brush move, trailing color behind it.

He was always fascinated by this, watching things created with the movement of a hand. It was like creating your own type of magic. The way brushes and pencils moved across a page or canvas to create something beautiful... it truly mesmerized him.

The way one could capture nature's beauty with a few waves of a wrist and a couple colors. The way a face could take form with a few pencil strokes. The way people, humans, can capture nature's infinite beauty.

A small smile graced his lips.

Nature's beauty... his thoughts began to trail to another human. His hands continued painting on their own as he succumbed into his mind. It was quiet, for now. Only the thoughts, only  _his_  thoughts, about another.

Dark hair swept over one side of their face. Piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the vastness of the oceans. They were bright as if millions of stars had been captured within their watery depths... A small smile created with soft looking pink lips, resting on fair skin.

He sighed as he pictured the other man in his mind's eye. He was... beautiful. Stunning. And compared to him, compared to that beautiful man, he himself was nothing but a lowly piece of trash.

He could picture the man... as if he was truly standing right before him. He could feel his breath against his lips, his arms around his waist...

_'Dan...'_

_Soft lips pressed against the crook of his neck and arms wrapped around his hips. He could feel a warm breath on his neck and soft hair brushing the side of his face._

_'Yes, dear?' he mumbled, lifting his brush to the canvas once more. As he was about to press it against the canvas his hand was caught and his body was turned toward his husbands._

_'Stop, come dance with me,' a soft tune began to float around the room, coming from nowhere in particular. He nodded his head with a soft smile and turned away for a moment to place his brush down..._

_His eyes landed on his painting. It was their home and their little girl peeking out the window... he was captivated with it. And he gasped when it started to move. He tried to step back and look away, but he couldn't._

_He could see their little girl waving at him, smiling. And his love appeared on the canvas, back turned. The door opened for him and the painting changed to inside... And then the two loves of his life began to dance together, laughing and twirling and having fun._

_And then a scream pierced the air. The little one screamed and ran and the image became smoky. He could hear his voice calling out to the two..._

_And the image returned to the original, of the house and their daughter peeking from behind a curtain... but this time, her mouth was open wide in a scream, of terror or pain or both he could not tell._

_The sky in the painting was dark and the house... the house was burning... oranges and yellows flashed and crawled across the page, reaching for her..._

_His love came running from the house, burning as he ran. He could hear his little girl screaming, haunting him as her small hands reached through the window before falling limp as her voice died away._

_And then smoke seemed to fill his vision and he was left in darkness._

_He spun around in circles and called out for his loved ones. But no answer came. Instead, a light appeared, though it was dulled by the smoky haze. He decided to follow it and began walking closer to it. As he did, a heavy feeling began to set in his heart._

_He froze, after walking for only a few seconds, as he realized the light was being blocked by something in the upper half... he started to become uneasy. It was as if his subconscious knew what was coming as he got closer and closer. His eyes started to tear up and his heart and head both started to pound._

_As he reached his destination, he just stood there for a few moments. It was his love, his beauty, his life. They... they were scared pitifully. Their hair growing in small odd patches of ruddy brown. His eyes were closed. His lips were parted and obviously chapped, his face marred terribly._

_His head was resting against his chest and his body spun around slowly, his fingers charred and his legs dangling limply. A pair of crutches were on the floor next to the tipped over chair. Dan doubled over beneath his love as he looked upon the disfigured, hanging, lifeless form of his love. He sobbed openly, hands covering his face._

_A hand was gently placed on his shoulder and he looked up. Before Dan, there sat the painting of home, his little girl peeking out and smiling at him, his love walking up to the front door. He smiled shakily and reached his hand up to the one now resting on his shoulder._

_It was firm, real, there._

_He sighed and gripped it and set down the brush still clutched in his fingers. As his fingers uncurled from around the brush he was tugged gently away from it and towards his lover. He stared into his blurred blue eyes and smiled, brushing aside the feelings, the thoughts crowding his mind._

_'It's wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! His eyes are wrong! His lips didn't look like that before! Wrong! His hair was darker! No lighter! Wrong! Wrong!'_

_He shook his head a little and smiled as he was gently pulled into a dancing position. His head rested on his love's shoulder as they swayed gently to the music._

_'I've missed this...' he mumbled into his love with a soft smile, 'I've missed you...'_

_He felt a low, sad chuckle vibrate his loves chest and a kiss pressed on to his head. He felt a few drops of water, tears, drip onto his face from above and tilted his head up. He smiled, but his joy quickly faded to horror._

_His arms became glued to the body of his love as his brown eyes widened in horror. He watched, transfixed, as his loves pale skin turned a dark, charred gray. His beautiful soft pink lips became dry and chapped. His once gorgeous blue eyes faded too and ugly dull gray. His hair fell out and was replaced with burned bits of flesh and small ugly tufts of red hair._

_The arms around him shrank and withered from strong and warm to cold and malnourished. The legs that supported his once proud body buckled beneath him and he collapsed on Dan, sending them both down in a heap._

_And finally, he screamed._

_'Dan...' he tried to imagine the beauty back. He tried to recall what he knew was stardust trapped beneath the waves of the ocean. He tried to call back the pale skin and the soft lips. The silky black hair he would run his fingers through._

_'Dan...' his loves scratchy voice said once more as he kept his eyes closed, imagining. Trying too anyway._

_'Dan... you need to stop...'_

_..._

His eyes fluttered open once more and before him stood his painting. A man, standing beneath the golden trees of autumn. He was perfectly shaded, with harsh lines of fiery light from the sun. The painting had soft looking dark hair and pale skin, soft pink lips and blue eyes.

And yet, it was wrong.

_The eyes, always the eyes..._

He screamed and swiped his brush across his arm again, harshly. He reopened the wounds he'd placed there. In an angry fit, he grabbed the white powder that had once been a bone, and his homemade brush.

Then, he mixed his blood and the powdered bone together and scrawled it across his painting. He covered the eyes with a harsh red line and then placed the word 'Wrong' in angry, dripping letters beneath the face.

He'd been so close this time...

He sighed as he placed the tools down and ran his now slightly bloodied hands through his already messy hair. Tears pushed at his eyes and his head throbbed. And he let out a small sob.

"Phil... I miss you... come back to me... I- I don't want to forget you!"

He let out a shaky breath and looked back at the painting with a grimace. The image was blurry, red covering most of it. He grabbed it, not caring about what would happen, and stomped over to the closet.

When he opened the door, he tossed the painting in uncaringly, amongst the hundreds of others in the walk in space. Then, he closed the door behind him and pulled another, blank, canvas from a chest near the back of the room.

He set up his supplies and again, he lifted his brush to the canvas.

"I'm sorry, Phil, but I will not stop. Not until I have your likeness with me."


End file.
